What is in there?
Is it a glimmer, a common ground?
I think I see you, the real you…but I don’t know.
Maybe it’s just an illusion.
I want to bite your face off and dig into you.
My teeth would be sharp fangs dripping with blood,
Your gristle jammed under my fingernails.
Ripping through layers of skin and muscle and bone until I reached the very essence of you.
And still, I know, it would not be enough.